For The Love Of
by beexfeatheryduster
Summary: Harley is in trouble, and she turns to the most unlikely person for help. She soon discovers that not everything is as it seems. With a crazed and furious Joker on her tail though, what can she do? Nolan style Joker. Harley/Joker, Harley/Bruce
1. Running

**Authors Note: Another strange idea that popped into my head. These strange idea's are actually rather common you know :) Anyway, hope you think this is ok. Any comments, critacisms or helpful hints are more than welcome. This chapter has been edited and we now have a beta reader on board people, yaaaay. Thanks go to WritingSchizo101 for her suggestions (that's your beta reader people)- Bee x **

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Harley Quinn took a deep breath and kept running. Her calves were aching from the strain on them, and her breath came quick and fast. The only sounds were her shoes on the pavement and the falling rain. She wanted to stop, her body was begging her to stop but, she was in no position to stop. Everything had been fine up until now. She would live with him, work for him, even love him- but not anymore. The game had changed and the stakes were higher than ever before. She couldn't stay with her Mistah J anymore. No matter what she felt for him, she wasn't entirely stupid. Her life was in greater danger than ever before, and it wasn't just her own anymore.

Harley kept running, even though the muscles in her legs now felt as though they were on fire. _Run, gotta run, keep running. _As she sprinted Harley mulled over what had led her to this, and where she would go. She couldn't go to Red; Mistah J would find her there for sure. No, she needed to go somewhere she would be safe. She needed to find someone to protect her. As she ran along the streets, the rain soaking through her trademark costume, she cried. Her heart felt as though it was breaking, and everything about what she was doing screamed 'wrong'. As if she were a traitor. And, in a way, she was.

A car sped past, the lights shining and illuminating the road in front. For a moment Harley toyed with the idea of running out in front of the car. That would be counter-productive though, for obvious reasons. So, she kept on running, feet pounding the concrete as she progressed. The way Harley had seen it, she had two options. She could head towards Gotham PD and turn herself in to Commissioner Gordan. That would certainly shock them, to say the least. Or, there was the other option. She could turn herself in to Batman. The flying rat. Harley scrunched her face up at the thought. Those were her options. They weren't great, but they were her options. How to decide between them though; that was the big question. It really all came down to who would offer her the best protection from the Joker. Harley knew the answer to that one.

She sighed heavily and stopped, leaning against a brick wall in an alleyway to catch her breath. She placed her hand just below her stomach, decision now made. She was doing so much, changing everything. Her life would never be the same again after this. It was necessary though. As always, Harley had her bag with her. She took her gun out of the bag and aimed it at the wall further down the alley. She pulled the trigger once, twice, thrice. She kept shooting until she had no more bullets. Then she refilled the gun, her focus on getting more bullets in as soon as possible. It needed to seem like a steady round of gun-fire for it to attract his attention. Harley took aim again and, once more, pulled the trigger. She shot until there were no more bullets left again. She paused for a moment, listening. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing, and the rain falling heavily upon the ground. Then a black shape descended from the roof and Harley had to clamp a hand over her mouth to suppress a squeal of fright. Even now she was frightened.

There, standing in the rain before her, was Batman in all his crime fighting, dark knight glory. He made a move towards her and Harley dropped the gun, her bag with other equipment in it following shortly after. He stopped, just staring at her, almost as though he were sizing her up.

"What do you want Quinn?" he asked, his voice a deep rasp. Harley had to wonder if that was how he really sounded when he wasn't being Batman. She, like everyone else, was dying to know who was underneath that mask and armour. She had accepted a time ago that it would never happen. Harley had to be thankful that he hadn't attacked and tried to subdue her yet. Then again, she hadn't been acting particularly threatening or antagonistic. She had just wanted his attention, and she had gotten it.

"I need help." She said, hoping that her could hear her over the sound of the rain. He was probably going to think that she was meaning psychological help. Well, he was probably _hoping_ that she was meaning psychological help. Who knows, perhaps she did. That wasn't what was she was asking... for now.

"Turn yourself in then," Batman replied, his voice still that deep, husky rasp which lacked any particular tone. It was always the same. Still, Harley was sure that he was challenging the validity of what she was saying. He probably wanted proof that she was being genuine.

"I can't. I need _your_ help Batman!" The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was the truth, and it was necessary, but that did not mean she had to like it. When he said nothing Harley continued, rushing her words, and praying he could understand.

"You can offer me better protection than Gotham PD can. You know this, and I know it. There is no use pretending otherwise, right?" Harley explained, hoping that Batman would grant her request. She was at the end of her tether. This was really it. "Right?"

Batman remained motionless for a moment.

"Protection from whom?" he asked, finally. Again, Harley couldn't be sure, but she suspected him of deliberately drawing out this whole engagement in some attempt to make her feel like a real, remorseful human being. She didn't really want to read into it all. She didn't have the time for that.

"Mistah- Joker. The Joker. I need protection from the Joker. He'll kill me if he finds out. I know he will!" Harley cried, unable to keep the edge of fear from her voice. He'd hurt her before. He'd left her before. Even when they'd been through so much together, they'd never experienced anything like this. Without a second's hesitation, he'd kill her. He said as much to her before.

"Why?" The Batman asked casually. Harley, now quite sure was dragging this out for his own amusement, became aggitated. It was taking up her time. Either way, it wasn't good. It was taking up time and that was precious for Harley. She only had so much of it before Joker realized her abscen and began hunting her. She couldn't hide from him on her own. Not now. Things had changed, and they were going to continue to change.

"I'm pregnant," Harley said, screwing her eyes shut and turning her head away. She was a big, strong girl, but she was not looking forward to what might happen next. Which is why she was surprised to say the least when she felt a hand on her arm. She opened her eyes and at the black-gloved hand, then back up into Batman's mask. He was so close to her and, as always, he was unreadable.

"Come with me," he said, his voice quieter than it normally was, softer. Harley smiled gratefully and nodded her head. She didn't care where she went now. She had set out with a goal in mind and she had achieved it. Batman was going to give her protection and sanctuary. She, and her little baby, might have a chance in this world now.


	2. Ha Ha

**Authors Note: It's short yes I know, but I really feel that it benefits from being short, creates a better atmosphere if you get what I mean. Again, everyone thank WritingSchizo101 for beta reading this chapter. Her suggestions were gladly and happily recieved- Bee x**

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He threw open the bedroom door, not bothered when it banged against the wall. His eyes scanned the room, not exactly sure what was being searched for. He would know it when he found it. He took a few steps in, his boots heavy on the floorboards. They weren't entirely structurally sound, but that was how he liked it. They creaked and moaned like a person in pain, and it was a wonderful noise. There, on the bed, right in the middle, was an envelope. He shook his head. She just _had_ to be that obvious, didn't she? He plucked the envelope from the bed and tore it open, unfolding the letter tucked inside.

_Mistah J,_

_I had to leave. I couldn't stay any longer. You won't find me. I won't let you find me. I'm going somewhere, a place where you can't touch me._

_Harley_

He made a small _tsk_ing noise in his throat as he shook his head. Foolish girl. He glanced across the letter again, a few words jumping out at him. This was a mystery he had here in his hands. A wonderful mystery; a chase. The promise of game, one she'd created just for him,made him laugh. The laughter was slow at first, but then it grew and grew until he was holding onto his stomach, pained. Jokes always caused the best kind. Eventually, the laughter died down and he was still. He looked at the letter, just looked at it for a few moments.

"Oh Harleeeeey,"he growled, disapproving. He was not at all happy with his girl. Something must have happened; someone must have gotten to her. Some idiot spoilthis fun, ruinedhis toy. That someone would pay.

The only time Harley would leave would be with his consent, or if he threw her out and then hunted her down later. He giggled a little as he remembered the few times they'd done that, thefun she had provided him with. She and the Batman were the only ones who could bring him enjoyment on a daily basis. Sure, the people he killed, they brought him some pleasure. That was only a one-time thing though, because it was their death he liked, nothing else. Harley and the Bat though, they lived and they made his life worth living every single day, the both of them.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked the empty room. Something needed to be done about this— something had rebelled against him a few times before and every time he beat her down, showed the girl her place: on the ground with her blood on his gloved hands. It was obvious to him now that she hadn't actually learnt her lesson. He was going to have to spend precious time, change some important plans to find her and bring her back. That could not go unpunished.

He paced the room slowly, looking round in search of any objects left behind, or to confirm if she had indeed taken would help him learn the aim of this flight of hers. It didn't take long to deduce how little she'd actually taken with only thing missing was her black bag— and herself, of course. He took note ofthe missing costume, knowing if she hadn't bothered to leave it behind, she was still wearing it. That should make her so much easier to find, his little Harlequin. She could not hide from him.

He turned on his heel and made his way down the stairs slowly, leaving the bedroom door wide open. He liked having the doors open; it made getaways quicker if they were necessary. The house was empty, except for the usual few henchmen dotted around here and there. One of them he spotted dozing in a chair when he entered the living room. The idiot shouldn't be sleeping. He pulled out his gun and pointed at the chair's leg, pulling the trigger. A loud bang echoed throughout the small room even after the chair leg blew apart, the seat collapsing. The startled henchmen followed, crashing to the floor and looking up with frightened eyes as his boss replaced the gun and started to laugh. That had been rather amusing.

"Get out, and don't come back till I say," he snarled, the laughter gone instantly. He didn't need to speak loudly. Whatever he said, they always heard. The henchman lumbered to his feet and then headed straight for the door, nodding his head nervously.

"S-Sure thing Boss! How will you find me though?" The man received a simple look in return. He gulped, but obeyed nonetheless, and headed out the door like a good little henchman. After taking a long look around the living room, he decided it could use a little something. He drew from a pocket in his long purple coat his favourite knife.

"Haaaarleeeey!" He grinned, brandishing the knife through the air, imagining the expression on Harley's face, those bright blue eyes wide with fear. It was such a delicious expression, and he loved seeing it on her perfection. She left him; she daredto leave without his consent, without being told to.

"Naughty, naughty," he said, holdingout his arm and drawing the blade along the length of it. He gritted his teeth at the pain, but soon started laughing as he dropped the knife and approached the wall. He placed his arm against the rough surface and dragged it along, smearing bloodon the peeling plaster.

"So I can always have a Smile on my face," he said to himself, as he took a step back and examined his handiwork. Two words were now on the wall, written in his own blood: _'ha ha'_. Just so he, and everyone else, would always remember the joke. The wall wasn't quite finished. It would be when he had Harley. Her blood would complete the work. Such a shame she wouldn't get to see it.

The Joker threw back his head and laughed.


	3. Shelter From The Storm

**Authors Note: Well, at long last I have gotten to this story. This has not been beta read so I hope that there isn't too many grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy the chapter too. Don't hesitate to let me know how I wrote Bruce, it was a challenge.**

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Batman sighed heavily as he dismounted his bike, removing the headpiece of the Batman outfit. The Batmobile had gone torn up a little bit, again, in Batman's last engagement with the Joker and so he was back to using the bike again. Thankfully, Wayne Manor had been successfully rebuilt and so they were back where they belonged. It was something Alfred was certainly happy about. A penthouse in the city hadn't really agreed with him. Bruce didn't know if it had been the heights or if it had just been the older man's love of Wayne Manor. Either way, they were back in the Manor and Alfred certainly seemed happier. That was one less thing for him to worry about, and one less speech on responsibility and not antagonising enemies from Alfred. _If only everything else was as simple _he thought as he ran his fingers through his hair.

It was good to be able to use the 'Batcave' as it had been dubbed, instead of having to make use of the city. At least on the outskirts, he could pretend that life was normal. There was very little evidence of the corruption, poverty and insanity that possessed Gotham City. If he so wished, he could close his eyes and lie to himself for a few hours. He could not do that anymore though, not with the woman who he had sequestered in the Library upstairs. Batman had brought her here, and she was waiting for Bruce Wayne. So Bruce Wayne she would have to see, and soon. No matter her circumstances, he could not forget who she was. Harley Quinn, sidekick and effectively punching bag to the Joker, even though she liked to fancy herself his girlfriend. The Joker cared about no one but himself, and sometimes he didn't even seem to care about anything other than anarchy and chaos. Alfred had been right when he said that some men just wanted to watch the world burn. The Joker was one of these men, and he was hell bent on bringing everyone down with him.

He peeled off the Batman suit, replacing it in the case he had set aside for it. He shut the doors and reached for the tailored suit Alfred had left stretched out on the table. He slipped the suit on and checked his reflection out in the mirror, tweaking the fabric here and there. He had to look perfect, simply because it was expected of him. He was Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy who some might suspect literally slept on money.

Bruce took a deep breath and looked himself in the eye in the mirror. He had been avoiding doing it before. For personal reasons, and perhaps for his own sanity, he had wanted to keep Bruce Wayne and Batman separate from each other. Matters were far less complicated that way. It could not be like that for much longer though, and Bruce had a feeling in his gut that the woman in his house now was heralding the arrival of the day when two would become one.

"Harley Quinn is upstairs. This is Harley Quinn, even though you are going to call her Doctor Quinzell. This isn't a chance to turn her, and bring her back to her senses. She's too far gone for that" Bruce said, using, almost without realising it, the deep rasping voice of Batman. It was important that he remembered that one fact. The Joker was adept at ruining people, and changing the very fundamentals of their personality, effectively destroying the core being of any individual he so wished. Bruce only needed to look at what he had done to Harvey Dent, and now Harley Quinn. In those two there was the best and the brightest and now look at where they were, all because of a highly intelligent madman.

"She is a dangerous criminal, she's insane. Obsessed and willing to do anything for her obsession." He paused, a confused look passing across his reflections face as a realisation danced into his mind.

"Or she was, she left him, for this baby. She's doing right by the baby now, not right by The Joker. That's a step in the right direction. If I show her what life can be like, then perhaps she might start doing right by herself too" Bruce Wayne spoke with his own voice now, slowly getting more and more excited. There was no answer from his reflection. There wasn't going to be, it was just a reflection after all. It was a mirror he was looking at, not Batman. He was Bruce Wayne looking at Bruce Wayne.

He sighed heavily and headed over to the elevator that would take him upstairs to the main part of the Manor. He shut the doors and pressed the button, staring out through the bars to look at the bat cave in all its wonder as he ascended in the elevator. Upstairs waited Alfred, loyal and willing to help as always, and their new houseguest Harley Quinn. If only his life could go back to those uncomplicated days. Somehow though, a part of his mind argued, it would always have ended up this way. Batman and all that the character entailed, was not just a construct, it was a destiny. It was Bruce Wayne's destiny, and his calling. Perhaps Harley Quinn was just about to find her own calling in motherhood. If so, there could be a chance to save both her and her child, and not just in the physical sense, from the Joker's machinations and warped nature. If he could see the potential there within her eyes, then both Bruce Wayne and Batman would try their best to bring her back.

Bruce pressed the singular button on the elevator and the doors shut as the box juddered into action and began the less than smooth ascent up to the main Manor. After the fire that had burned down the Manor, Bruce had specified that the rebuilding was to allow the 'secret elevator' to emerge in the kitchen, behind a decorative mirror. There was a false panelled wall beside it that could easily open and could be slipped in and out of with ease. The mirror looked as though it were just a simple mirror to whomsoever was in the kitchen, but to Bruce from his perspective as the elevator smoothly and quietly came to a halt, he could see whoever was in the kitchen. Thankfully, nobody was there and so Bruce quickly and quietly slid out of the small cubby area the design plan had afforded him. With practised ease, he slid the wall panelling back into place behind him. He straightened his suit jacket and turned around, ready to make his way up to the Library where Harley Quinn was waiting for him. At least, that had been the plan. As he turned round he was met by Alfred.

"Alfred, don't sneak up on me like that. I didn't hear you coming." Bruce said the first sentence rather sharply, and so his tone became more apologetic at the end. Alfred simply nodded his head, he understood that Bruce had experienced a momentary fright.

"Master Wayne, Miss Quinzell tried to escape from the Manor and slipped down the stairs. Thankfully, both she and her baby seem to be well enough." Alfred reported, his tone slightly more clipped than usual. He did not approve of Harley Quinn residing in Wayne Manor, lest she discover the true identity of Batman. He was not going to come out and say it straight though, not after how clear Bruce had made himself that this was important. She wasn't just Harley Quinn anymore, and she wouldn't be for the next eight to nine months.

"Where is she Alfred?" Bruce questioned, slightly alarmed that such an event had occurred. He would never have thought she would have tried to escape, not after having come to Batman seeking protection for her baby. He could not understand why she would have jeopardised that and her baby, who she was trying to save from the Joker, by trying to escape Wayne Manor.

"In the Gallery, attempting to appreciate the art I assume." Alfred said his tone and words' clearly betraying the fact that he thought the true appreciation of art was beyond an individual in her position and of her mind. Nobody knew if Harley Quinn liked art, or even if Harleen Quinzell herself had.

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce said, clapping the older man on the shoulder as he went past. Alfred was not just a Butler as everyone assumed; he was a friend, the only friend that Bruce Wayne really had left. Bruce left the kitchen and headed up the stairs into the Main Hall. From there he continued upwards till he reached the first floor. The doorway on the right opened up onto the large Main Gallery, filled with portraits. It was always a place of sadness for Bruce as he gazed upon the paintings and remembered that the originals had been destroyed. It was within the Gallery that he did indeed find Harley Quinn, gazing at a landscape painting of a woman and a child, sitting at the bottom of a tree, taking shelter from the storm raging all around them. It did not surprise Bruce that she was fascinated with that particular painting above all the others, for truly she was. The expression on her face was finally opened and her emotions were clear to see. It was such an accurate representation in art of her own position at this time in her life. The Manor, Batman and Bruce himself would be the tree, attempting to shelter her and her child from the storm that was the Joker. Bruce only hoped that they would be able to protect her.

"Miss Quinzell." Bruce announced his presence by coughing and speaking her name into the otherwise empty Gallery. She jumped a little and spun round to face him properly.

"The name is Quinn now Wayne, Harley Quinn. I aint Harleen no more." Harley said simply and with a large amount of emphasis and scorn on the name 'Harleen'. Whatever was about to transpire in the next short while, it was going to take a lot of time and effort, that much he could tell.

"My apologies, Miss Quinn. The Batman has asked a favour of me concerning you and your current situation. I am more than willing to oblige, for I owe him a great many things. However, there are some ground rules I wish to lay down." Bruce started, attempting to be as formal as possible for as long as possible.

"I do not wish for you to attempt to escape. You were brought here for your own protection, which you asked for. An escape attempt would hurt you and your child more than it would hurt me. I assume that your presence here is because you wish for your child to be given the chance to take first breath." Bruce said, trying to avoid being so harsh. He had to admit though that her escape attempt had angered him considerably.

"I didn't expect to be brought here of all places. I was thinking something more you know, smaller, out of the way. Wayne Manor is an obvious place to stash me." Harley replied, obviously by way of explanation for her escape attempt. Bruce was very surprised to find that there was actually logic within her words. Clearly, Harleen was still alive and active, as much as Harley would try to deny it. It would seem then that the Joker had not destroyed the girl before, merely created another in her image to take her place and supress her. Maternal instinct and the factoring in of another life that could not defend itself appeared to be bringing her out of the darkness and bondage she was sure to have been in.

"How is it an obvious place?" Bruce asked, curious to see if there was any further logic to be found within Harley Quinn.

"No offence to ya, but you're the most well-known guy in Gotham, and you've been charitable recently. This is the first place he would look." Harley explained, and impressed Bruce once more. He could see her point for perhaps the first time during their associations.

"No, one of the most obvious places would be with Pamela Isely. The next would perhaps be Gotham PD, as you yourself had suggested. Any hiding place in the City. Why would The Joker even consider Wayne Manor? You have no connection with me after all." Bruce countered, presenting his points clearly and quickly so she could understand as soon as possible that Wayne Manor was the safest place for her. There was silence between them for a few brief moments that seemed to last a lifetime before she sighed heavily and slumped her shoulders a little.

"I guess you're right." She said dejectedly, transferring her gaze to the painting again. Bruce came up to stand beside her, crossing the space between them in a few short steps. They both examined the painting, Bruce with his hands folded behind his back, Harley with hers clasped together as though in prayer. As far as he knew, she was not a religious person, so he had to wonder as to why her hands had found themselves in that particular position with those connotations.

"A storm is going to be coming Wayne. Joker will want to find me, and he'll tear Gotham apart when he can't." She paused and turned her body fully to face him. Bruce looked into her eyes as she spoke, and was surprised with what he found within them. He would never have expected gratitude.

"You better be up to the challenge." She remarked, sighing heavily again, this time placing her hands on her belly.

"We will keep you and your child safe Miss Quinn. I promise you that." He said with determination and conviction.

"Hey, call me Harley." She said in reply, smiling wryly. This was certainly going to be an interesting chapter in Bruce Wayne's life.


End file.
